


Where the Free Will Leads

by SulitDragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Balthazar Being Balthazar (Supernatural), Balthazar Needs a Friend, F/M, M/M, Multi, Past Balthazar/Castiel, Protective Balthazar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SulitDragon/pseuds/SulitDragon
Summary: Balthazar, a warrior of heaven, flees the civil war. Unwilling to return to heaven; and unsure how to make his way on Earth, he finds help from his strange human vessel and the King of Hell. Both intent on helping a newly "retired" angel enjoy himself and find a little peace.





	1. The Soldier Defects

**Author's Note:**

> "No man, no madness  
> Though their sad power may prevail  
> Can possess, conquer, my country's heart  
> They rise to fail  
> She is eternal  
> Long before nations' lines were drawn  
> When no flags flew, when no armies stood  
> My land was born"
> 
> Lyrics from 'Anthem' by Tim Rice and Björn Ulvaeus, from Chess

Despite what most humans believed, there were technically two heavens. There was the heaven humans were familiar with, where the reapers took them when they passed. It retained a fleeting solidity that was just Earth-like enough to make the resident souls comfortable. The other heaven was the home of the angels. This heaven was insubstantial, an ethereal mass of undulating wavelengths of light. A soft swelling of angels as they mingled both within and without each other made up the entirety of the space. Their individual voices blending into a soft waltz of love and peace was the only sound. There were multiple types of angels that existed here. Each angel had a class, an indication of the powers they could wield, starting with the cherubs and ending in the massively powerful archangels. They also each had a job, taking their duties as given to them by their father with devout seriousness. Although there were no human senses that could grasp or describe this heaven accurately, humans would have understood on at least a basic level most of the jobs assigned to the different angels. For example there was the accounting group, these tended to be younger, gentler angels. They were tasked with ensuring the humans remained happy and safe within their own heaven. Some of the angels jokingly called them the zookeepers. Then there were the warriors. They were more like heaven's law enforcement than they were actual soldiers. They were tasked with policing the activities of both humans and angels on Earth and in heaven. They ensured that God's law was being properly followed. They kept an eye on demon activities, they made sure the other groups were not overstepping their duties, and they kept their fellow angels from trying to subvert heaven’s law. They were divided into garrisons, carrying out their assigned tasks in small teams. They spent so much time watching Earth as well as heaven; many of them had a unique disdain for humanity, but it never stopped them from carrying out their duties.

 

It was true that they had sometimes been ordered to act against one of their own brothers or sisters. These incidents were very few and far between, and always on a small scale. So these missions in no way prepared the angels for what they were currently facing in heaven. Two separate factions beginning to wrestle for control of a heaven their father seemed to have abandoned. One group under the Archangel Raphael wanted to see him restart the apocalypse that had been stopped, they wished to see the Earth wiped clean and turned into a paradise. The other faction had chosen the angel Castiel as their leader. They wished to see the operation of heaven and Earth return to the way it had been before the Apocalypse had been triggered. Many of the angels following Castiel had worked beside him or had followed his commands before. When the angels had begun choosing sides there had been no question in Balthazar's mind, which he would follow. Balthazar had worked side-by-side with Castiel for some time. He found they made an excellent team, and he admired Castiel's leadership abilities. Although all angels considered their fellows to be brothers or sisters, Balthazar had a uniquely strong devotion to Castiel as not only a brother but his true friend. This may have been part of what allowed Balthazar to see that Castiel was never going to convince Raphael to abandon his path with just words. Although he tried to warn his friend of a danger he sensed, Castiel had proceeded.

 

It hadn’t been long into the confrontational debates when Raphael drew a line in the sand. Within the angel heaven he created planes of a nearly material nature. They were stark fields where the angels could take on physical forms in order to fight each other. Although Balthazar had no qualms destroying one of their own that had gone rogue, this new threat made his figurative heart drop into his stomach. He knew with every atom of his being that this was wrong, his essence roiled and sparked at the thought that Raphael would ever conceive of having angels fight and kill other angels. It defied the very natural order he had spent a millennia trying to protect. When the first groups of angels separated from the greater whole and set foot on the bare field he had been there. He had steeled himself for what was to come, had felt confident in his abilities to overcome his foes. It had been brutal, quick but devastating, especially to Castiel’s side. Although many angels had been killed outright, some were left in almost incomprehensible states. They were horribly damaged, some to the point that it made them unable to rejoin the collective whole.

 

Pain, fear, doubt, anger, a tide of new and strange emotions assailed all of them, and few of them had been in any way capable of knowing how to handle them. Balthazar had felt ill, especially when he assessed how long this could likely continue if no side could gain a large upper hand. He had felt shame at knowing that their father would have been furious at them, it didn’t matter that he was absent. And he had felt betrayed by his brothers that had taken arms for Raphael. He couldn’t understand how any of them could feel that destroying what God had so carefully created was right. It was that turmoil that allowed the first tiny tendrils of free will into his being. Although at first he had acted out of instinct, hardly even registering the actions he was taking, he slowly became aware that he had been breaking some rules himself. It started with creating subtle wards within himself that he could activate to shield himself from the eyes of his fellows. Then he had begun to steal away into the celestial vaults and secret away small caches of items to hide on Earth. Like a squirrel preparing for winter he had dashed silently around the globe with his ill-gotten treasures, hiding them safely away from man and angel alike. He had no real plan, had he been asked why he was doing it he would have given a bewildered shrug, the warrior in him had known somehow this would prove important later. Even if he was only just beginning to learn how to act without orders, without being given a specific path to follow.

 

There were more battles fought, though thankfully not many, but the damage to Balthazar’s psyche was already nearing irreparable levels. He tried in desperation, and ultimately futilely, to convince some of Raphael’s followers to reconsider their stance. He waited with dwindling confidence for Castiel to find a solution to resolve all of this. Balthazar found himself growing distant from his brothers. Day by day he pulled further and further away from the whole and into himself. He questioned his place in heaven, if there was even a real need for him at all. He found himself back on Earth, preparing to return from creating another stash when he caught a familiar signal in the air. He tuned his angelic senses to the frequency he had heard Castiel once call ‘angel radio’. He picked up the chatter of a small group of angels that seemed to be in distress in heaven, and teleported to the source of the signal.  Balthazar arrived at the edge of one of Raphael’s fields. Three accountants stood in the center, shoulders pressed together, clearly trying to gain the comfort of unity that their physical forms couldn’t allow. They were being questioned forcefully by five of Raphael’s thugs. Balthazar tried to follow the conversation but it was confusing, nonsensical. It appeared that the thugs were demanding access to the human heaven, to be allowed some of the souls.  Clinging desperately to their assigned duties the terrified trio continued to refuse. Humans were not in any particular way useful that Balthazar knew of, the whole thing made no sense.

 

His mind tried to process this new information, to guess what the archangel might be planning when one of the thugs lost patience. Balthazar read the threat as the angel blade appeared but found he could do no more than stand stunned as it was plunged into the unarmed and relatively defenseless angel. The part of Balthazar that had been slowly breaking apart finally shattered as the angel fell sparking and flaring to the ground. His blade was in his hand and he was charging the thug closest to him. They struggled alone, focused only on each other, wrestling for control. The other thugs began to move in, closing him into a tight circle. He finally gained the upper hand and drove a mortal wound home before he rolled to face the others. His senses took in the field and its inhabitants. At the speed of light he began calculating possible moves to make, and their outcomes. All the while he was aware of a pair of shocked and terrified spectators, unarmed and utterly at a loss. He let his opponents move first, to broadcast their plans to him and he reacted instantly. The first to move fell wounded and blinked away to safety. The three remaining attempted to attack as a unit but they didn’t have his training and he was able to deal another fatal blow as he moved to give himself room again. He felt it; each blow he dealt gave him a taste of the pain. When an angel died at his hand he felt the severing of their spirits as though he were losing a part of himself. The part of him that knew them to be his brothers felt the horror of it keenly. He realized his own actions were weakening him, each wrong useless death was destroying him and he knew he couldn’t continue. Even though it would mean giving up on his fellows, letting down Castiel, going against his sense of right and wrong. His sense of self-preservation told him he needed to end this for himself before any more damage could be done.

 

He allowed the two remaining angel’s to close on him, yelling at the pair cowering off to the side to run. Both pairs moved at the command, one lunging forward the other teleporting away. Focusing solely on his attackers Balthazar activated the tiny artifact he had been hiding within himself. He dodged the first weapon to come close to him but he allowed the second to drive home. His body tensed in agony as sparks began to sizzle in his eyes, crackle around the blade. He tried to grab the hilt of the blade but his would-be killer pulled it free. The artifact created a pulse of energy that mimicked an angel’s death, his being seemed to be dispersed outward to fade to nothing. Instead he had been transported, whole and safe, to one of the vaults. He activated the wards he had been carving into himself since this all started so that he was invisible to his brothers. He entered the vault and cast about frantically for the best item he could see. He spotted an old, gnarled, wooden staff, Balthazar smiled. Snatching the staff from its container he allowed himself one last psychic caress of his home and teleported to Earth.


	2. Look Where The Music Can Take You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar, a warrior of heaven, flees the civil war. Unwilling to return to heaven; and unsure how to make his way on Earth, he finds help from his strange human vessel and the King of Hell. Both intent on helping a newly "retired" angel enjoy himself and find a little peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone giving my story a chance! Comments are received with love and affection! ;)

Balthazar circled the Earth slowly; he knew the next step he needed to take was to find a vessel. In his true form he was vulnerable; eventually the energy waves that formed his existence would wash away the wards leaving him all too visible to the other angels. A vessel would naturally mask his signature somewhat, and they were easy to cover with whatever wards or sigils he needed to stay hidden. He hesitated in his task, trembling with nervous energy. He had inhabited vessels before, as part of his duties. It had always been for very short missions, not the very long time he was now facing. It was awkward to have to ask humans for help. He didn't really understand them, didn't overly like them either. Inhabiting a vessel was cramped and so awkward, knowing the little hairless apes could be watching his every move. It would have made his skin crawl, if he had any. None of this discomfort compared to what he felt was the worst insult of all. He couldn't just hop into anyone; the human had to grant him permission.

 

Balthazar thought of his fellow angels and of heaven, his mind kept going back to Castiel. He wondered how the fight was going, if any more of his friends had been killed. He felt lonely, cast adrift. Although he had been separated from the angelic whole before to go on missions to Earth he had still always had at least a few of his brothers with him. Now they would be hunting for him, now he was the renegade. He wondered if he could find a way to help Castiel’s side become stronger. If he could prove helpful and Castiel’s side won would he be allowed to return? He couldn’t even be sure Castiel would listen to him now that he had run away. He wanted to believe their friendship would be enough for Castiel to at least hear him out, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that his friend wouldn’t hesitate to kill him for going rogue.

 

Balthazar shifted his flight and flew into an eddy of light and radio waves. He fluttered among the different patterns of energy, allowing his mind to calm. After a few moments he felt more settled and he began to glide lazily toward the ocean. As the California coastline sailed into his view he pushed away the last tendrils of fear and focused on his task. He reached towards the brain waves of the humans below him, searching for a compatible signal. He knew that most likely he would have to search for a while to find the right pattern, so he was a little surprised at how quickly he found one. He approached a suburb of Los Angeles with slow beats of his giant wings. He zeroed in on the house the signal was coming from. As he approached the modest home he sensed that there was only one human inside the dwelling.

 

Hovering above the roof in lazy circles he considered how to proceed. Approaching vessels could be tricky since he couldn't freely communicate with humans while he was in his current form. He shifted himself slowly through the roof and the second story until he inhabited the ground floor the human occupied. His potential vessel was a man, tall and thin with a smooth grace to his movements. He was talking to someone on the phone as he paced back and forth in his living room. He paused; closing his pale blue eyes long enough to take a deep breath before resuming his movement. Long fingers brushed through fine curly blonde hair in a gesture of frustration. Curious, Balthazar reached out and caressed the energy patterns coming from the phone in the man's hand. Instantly he found himself listening to both sides of the conversation. There was a woman on the other end of the line who was apparently trying to soothe the agitated man.

 

“I'm just saying I don't see how the concert could have possibly been as bad as you're making it out to be. Besides you've always insisted to me that you love going to live performances.” “Yes Emma, I DO love performing live, far more than I like being cramped up in a studio. But I'm telling you the last five gigs I've worked have all been shit.” The woman heaved an exasperated sigh, ”Nigel.” ”No.” He raked his hand through his hair again. “Look, you booked me to be opening act for a series of cover bands. You know how I feel about that as it is, but the crowds. As far as I can tell the audiences are made up with people who wouldn't know one bloody rock band from another. At this last show a woman came up to me to tell me how much she liked my work, how nice it was to hear my music after a long time, and how sorry she was that I wasn't actually Nigel Fowler.” He paused to let the woman comment but when she just made a soft coughing sound he went on. “Do you understand what I'm saying Emma? The woman thought I was a cover artist for my own work!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching his eyes shut. His pacing increased in speed as he circled his couch. “And it gets even better than that you know, when I walked out backstage there were about ten kids waiting for me, all eager to talk about how cool they thought my music was.” “Well that must have been nice, right?” The woman sounded apprehensive. “Oh yeah, it was great, right up until they informed me how cool it was to be meeting Peter, bloody, Frampton!” The woman made a strange sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. Clearly on a role now, his voice rose. “I don't even LOOK like Peter Frampton, let alone sound like him!”  The woman switched now to trying to use an appeasing tone of voice. “Well Nigel, you can hardly blame a couple of teenagers for not knowing who you were. They didn’t grow up listening to either of you. Besides, Peter isn’t a bad artist to be compared to.” She trailed off sounding like she had run out of argument. The man let out a deep breath and stopped walking. Slowly he lowered himself onto his couch. “No, I wouldn't mind being compared to Peter musically, but I mind being mistaken for him.  I don’t even do that ridiculous talking guitar bit.” He rolled his eyes but the corner of his mouth crooked up slightly at the thought. He took a deep breath and leaned back on his couch, long legs angling past his coffee table. “Look I'm not saying I don't want you to be my agent anymore right? And I'm not saying I'm not going to do any work anymore either. I'm just saying I'm done with the concert circuit for now.” “So what do you plan on doing?” He shifted his head back and stared at the ceiling. For a moment Balthazar thought he had been detected but he realized the man’s eyes were looking exhaustedly through him. “Honestly I thought I'd take a break to do some writing. It’s been awhile since I came up with anything good, maybe a break will jar some of that creativity loose again. I don't know, maybe I could even do some recording. You never know there might be more than just the one hit in me.” She laughed and the soft scratching sound of writing came through the line. “Nigel you know that's not entirely fair, just because only the one song was a billboard hit didn't mean you didn't write some other good tracks. But writing is good, great even! We've always done well selling your songs. I'm sure I can schedule some good studio time for you coming up if you want to give me some dates?” He shrugged his shoulders and started drumming his fingers lightly on his leg. “I don't really have any dates just now, mostly I just want to focus on writing. Can I do that for a while? You're not going to keep sending me notices for different concert venues?” “Well I don’t know, I bet I could get a really good gig for you. If you think you can handle belting ‘Do You Feel Like We Do’?” He groaned loudly and hunched forward on the couch. The woman laughed heartily. “You're a witch sometimes Emma, you know that?” Her laughter trailed off into giggles. “I should see if Peter’s agent could get him to cover one of your songs at his next gig. It would be a riot to see how many teenagers we could confuse.” “Hah, he’d be way more likely to cover something from Roger Waters, then they could confuse all three of us.” “Oh now Nigel, not every rocker over 50 looks alike.” He finally let out a low chuckle his eyes crinkling. “Apparently we do to anyone under 30.” “Alright, I have your schedule cleared, no more bookings. Take it easy; write me something solid I can put out there for you alright? Do that and I promise I won’t pester you at all for at least a couple months.” “Wow, you trust me to stay out of trouble for two whole months?” He was wearing a smile that was clearly made to charm groupies right out of their jeans. “I do, but mainly because I know Alice is out of town for his radio show, and Willie is on the east coast currently. Otherwise; I assure you, I’d have a P.I. following your every step. I have a meeting I have to run to, enjoy writing Nigel.” “Thanks Emma, you’re a doll.” He hung up the cell phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. He got up and walked to a piano that stood at the far end of his living room. His agile fingers of his right hand dashed off an idle tune while the left pulled sheet music and notes to the front of the stand. He sat on the bench and began playing with both hands, warming up with a medley of rock tunes. Suddenly he smirked and the chorus of ‘Do You Feel Like We Do’ rolled out from the strings. He laughed a soft easy sound that Balthazar felt paired well with the music he was playing. Even if the angel had no clue what the tune was or why it was funny.

 

“I’m sure this vessel will do then, as long as he lets me in.” He had thought of trying to infiltrate the stereo or the TV with a signal to carry his voice. This was sometimes problematic as the flimsy electronics were easily overwhelmed by an angel’s true voice. If they exploded; as they so often did, he could end up spooking the human into rejecting him. He decided he had enough time to wait until the human fell asleep and then he could infiltrate the man’s dreams. It was tedious but much more likely to get him the permission he was looking for. So Balthazar remained ethereal, he allowed part of him to weave through the light coming from a nearby window, and still another part idly played with the dust motes in the air. The majority of his essence matched the patterns of the music coming from the piano, getting to know the man through his music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Chapter title is a song from an old cartoon called the Devil Versus Daniel Mouse, on the off chance you want to see it look on youtube, it isn't very long. Also as I already said I would love comments if you have any. :)


	3. Come in here dear boy, have a cigar.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar and Nigel strike a deal and Nigel reveals a hidden talent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this little bit longer chapter makes up some for two short ones. ;)

Nigel was sitting at his piano playing a variety of music. Sometimes he would play just small bits of classical songs, or the chorus to a favorite rock song of his. Sometimes he’d dash off entire pieces, and all of it he played by heart. Here and there he played the small bits of tunes he had started to compose, but each attempt was halfhearted and he didn’t manage to add anything to what he had already written. As evening settled in he took a break to microwave a TV dinner and open a beer. While he ate he paced back and forth between the piano and the kitchen. Sometimes he would pick up one of his sheets of notes, he would stare it down as though it were about to reveal what the rest of the song should be. In between bites and long pulls on his beer he would experimentally hum what he hoped were the next few notes of a song. He finished his dinner at the same time as his first beer, twisting the cap off of a second as he sat back down at the piano. He played the start of one of his songs again, this time adding the new notes he had hummed. A deep smile that reached across his whole face pooled at the corners of his eyes. He leaned forward and hastily scribbled the addition to his song. “Now all I need is four more minutes of that and some lyrics.” He laughed and played the new longer piece of music twice, feeling his way through to make sure it was right. Although he worked for another three hours he made no further progress on the song. He had been relieved when his manager Emma had agreed to stop the concert circuit for a while, but he was still having trouble writing. It had been almost a year since he had come up with anything longer than a couple of bars. Nigel leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, he lightly scratched at the fine beard on his chin. After a moment he closed his eyes and clasped his hands, resting his first knuckles against his forehead. He made a short informal prayer asking for inspiration; oblivious to the presence of the angel. Balthazar easily intercepted the musician’s prayer, thankful to have an excuse to appear in the man’s dreams later. Although he was sorry to lose the soundwaves from the piano he hoped that the man rising from the bench meant he was going to go to bed. When Nigel sat on his couch and turned his television on he was distantly aware of the static electricity that signaled the angel’s irritation, even though he was unaware of the angel himself. Nigel idly flipped through channels until he found an old movie he liked. He lightly tossed the remote onto the coffee table and stretched out along the length of his couch. He pulled a throw pillow under his neck and lazily curled his arm up to rest on his forehead. He toed his boots off with only minimal fussing and was soon absentmindedly drumming his fingers on his stomach. The television flashed and crackled through an explosive car chase but it wasn’t enough to keep him from slowly drifting off, his fingers finally stilling against the soft rise and fall of his breathing. Balthazar carefully reached into the remote control and slowly lowered the volume; he didn’t want a sudden noise to interrupt the man’s sleep. He waited until the first signs of movement showed behind the man’s eyelids and then gently caressed the dreamer’s brainwaves, weaving himself into Nigel’s subconscious.  
  
Nigel was on a small stage in a little dark bar. He was perched on a barstool, pulling the cords of a rock ballad from the gleaming red guitar in his arms. He leaned into the microphone, pouring his energy into it. He was relishing the emotions of the audience as they listened to him sing. When the last note had faded the bar erupted in enthusiastic applause and he grinned triumphantly. A lady at a front table caught his eyes, she had on a tour t-shirt of his, practically painted over her. Her low-rise jeans were giving him teasing flashes of her hips as she moved. He had just started to flash his ‘Come check out the tour van’ grin when he saw someone approach the stage. He turned to look at the man or was it a woman? He couldn’t seem to focus directly on them as they approached him. He decided it was one of the stage lights blocking his view. The stranger’s voice was a strange jumble of nature sounds; rain, wind, and was that thunder? Yet it was also familiar and warm. “Hello Mister Fowler, I’ve come to discuss a business arrangement with you.” Ah, a record producer, of course that made perfect sense. Who else would seem so smooth and in-charge? “Yeah? Guess you liked my set then?” He unslung his guitar and propped it carefully in the stand next to his amp. Signaling for two beers he moved to an empty table to the side of the stage. The woman, or was it a man? Why couldn’t he focus right on them? The woman sat but didn’t touch the beer that was placed in front of her. “I liked what I heard but I’m here about your new music.” Nigel’s smile slipped from his eyes although his lips were still curled in a grin. “I haven’t actually written anything new just lately, Miss?” He trailed off waiting for a name. When the man continued without giving one he shifted nervously. “That is exactly why I’m here; I believe you requested aid with inspiration?” Nigel was no longer hiding his confusion, his eyebrows drew together. “I’m sorry; I don’t seem to know what you’re referring to Mister?” The strange man chuckled, an electric rumble that tingled along Nigel’s spine. Nigel grunted softly when his request for a name was ignored again. “Tonight, at your piano, you prayed for help with your music?” Nigel straightened in his chair, his eyes went wide and he moved slightly back from the stranger. “I don’t, I, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about…” He trailed off weakly when the stranger shook their head at him. “Nigel, can I call you Nigel?” They continued without waiting for a response. “We can beat around the bush on this, but our meeting has a time limit I’m afraid.” Nigel found himself nodding as though this all made sense to him. “I’ll be clearer, you prayed tonight for help with your music. Heaven heard you; they sent me to help you. Think of me as a sort of a guardian angel.” The angel smiled at some private joke. “Angel, an angel, you are an actual angel. Oh I get it, I’m dreaming then.” Nigel laughed with relief. This made sense now. A dream explained the way the stranger seemed to be there and not there. Of course if he woke up that would be the end of the conversation, and if he knew it was a dream he’d wake up any second. “Yes you are dreaming, I’m visiting you in your dream to see if you still wanted my help?” Nigel wasn’t waking up. Did he just go along with this then? “Sure, who am I to turn down an angel’s help? What kind of help exactly?” The angel glowed a little brighter; Nigel suddenly realized that was why he couldn’t focus on them. The angel was pure light in a roughly human shape; but with no specific features. “Well we have what you might think of as an exchange program. We find that angels can help humans best when we understand as much about them as possible. So you just have to grant me permission to take over your body for a while. I get a chance to try to learn more about being human and you get to watch what happens. I understand it provides a great source of inspiration.” Nigel pushed his hand out towards the angel to make him pause. “Wait wait wait, take over my body? So everyone will see me but it’ll be you?” How does that even work?” The angel sighed a little, like a frustrated parent talking to a child. “What drives you around currently is your soul, my being is similar to a soul in many ways. Think of your body like a car, currently you are driving. If you agree, I take over the driver seat and you move over to the passenger side. It’s perfectly safe and you can see everything that happens. When you seem to have built up sufficient inspiration I slide back out and put you back in the driver’s seat.” Nigel knew his jaw was hanging open but he couldn’t seem to close it again. He reflexively grabbed his beer and took a deep gulp, forcing his mouth shut again. “You say that like you do it all the time.” Nigel couldn’t decide how he felt about all of this. It sounded crazy, a little reckless, and utterly perfect. Was he really agreeing to do this, and was this even real or really just a dream? “It happens more often than you might think, apparently seeing things you have become very used to through someone else’s experience really gets those creative juices going.” Nigel downed the rest of his beer and tried to decide if he would still be crazy when he woke up. “All I have to do is give you permission to be my pilot?” The angel nodded, actually he more sort of flickered but Nigel knew what that meant somehow. What if you need to know how to handle something or I change my mind?” The top of the angel bent to the side in what Nigel recognized as a head tilt. “I can reach through any important memories you have to deal with anyone important, it typically isn’t an issue. As for taking back your body we can do that at any time.” Nigel felt like the angel was leaving something out but he couldn’t think what. The angel silently hoped Nigel wouldn’t think to ask how they could communicate. To his knowledge humans couldn’t initiate communication, the possessing angel had to make a connection and he didn’t intend to give the human a chance to talk once he took over the vessel. “Do you have a name, or do you just all call each other angel?” The angel laughed a surprisingly throaty sound from someone that didn’t appear to have an actual throat. “I’m Balthazar.” Nigel had his full smile back in place. He could see how getting to watch the angel learn more about humans could give him new perspectives. He could even think of a few things that might knock his feathers off right off the bat. “Alright Balthazar, pleasure to meet you.” He started to reach for a handshake when he realized there wasn’t really a hand for him to grab. He dropped his hand and laughed when the angel gave another head tilt. At the sound of Nigel’s laugh the angel’s light rippled in a silent chuckle. Nigel jerked his thumb towards his head, a reckless smile curling his lips. “Well Balthazar, get in and drive.”  
  
Back in Nigel’s living room Balthazar flared briefly in triumph and the electrical surge turned the television off. He had expected to have to work much harder at getting a yes but the human had been surprisingly open to the suggestion. “Nigel” he corrected himself, “Nigel was so desperate he had leapt at my ‘offer’.” He felt a brief flutter of guilt at misleading Nigel as to why he wanted in, but he shook it off. Desperate times called for free-will measures and a small lie couldn’t be that bad. He had seen Castiel do it a few times after all. Balthazar gathered himself into a concentrated ball and then eased himself inside the sleeping man’s mouth and nose. He spread tendrils of himself through the man’s body; infiltrating his very cells with tiny fragments of his angelic pattern. For a brief moment the man’s body almost seemed to glow as Balthazar took full control. He carefully gathered the man’s soul into a back corner of his mind surrounding it safely with his own energy. Nigel’s soul seemed to move about for a moment, as though he was finding a more comfortable position inside the angelic nest he had. _“Are you all cozy in there?”_ Balthazar drawled the sarcastic comment out before he could stop himself. It had been so long since he last had a human presence with him. It shouldn’t matter, they never seemed to fully hear angelic thoughts let alone be able to respond. Balthazar was stunned when Nigel’s voice floated back to him. _“Yeah, not bad, kinda nice actually.”_ Maybe his imagination made him think he was hearing the human, he knew it wasn’t possible. They didn’t know how to communicate back to possessing angels. _“Funny, I thought I actually heard you just now.” “Didn’t you? I was saying it was nice, whatever it is you’re doing with me.”_ Balthazar almost leapt out of the vessel in shock. _“How are you doing that, how can you talk to me?” “I can’t totally explain it but it’s kinda like soundwaves right? I just visualize the shape my voice would make, and I guess you can hear it.”_ Nigel sounded so innocently cheerful about achieving something no other human had done before that Balthazar found himself laughing his new vessel awake. _“Not bad man, I can tell I’m not directly seeing through my eyes, it’s like watching TV.”_ Balthazar stood up and smoothed down the grey t-shirt he was wearing. He held his hands out and looked at them while he thought about this strange turn of events. Did he want to keep a vessel if the human owner could just talk to him like that? He wondered if he could somehow convince Nigel to remain silent. _“You don’t have to worry about it Wings, I’m a quiet roommate.”_ The man’s laugh was soft and enticing even through the ethereal communication they shared. Balthazar was annoyed with himself for feeling a little reassured. _“Wings? Really?” “Yeah, no offense but Balthazar sounds like a crotchety old geezer. You don’t seem all that old to me.”_ Balthazar snorted, and was a little surprised he was already making human gestures. _“I suspect you’d be surprised at my actual age.”_ He could feel Nigel considering this for a moment. _“Well you’re only a couple minutes old in this body, and you are only as old as you feel Wings.”_ Balthazar laughed out loud and didn’t bother hiding his pleasure at being the source of that sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone really surprised Balthazar managed to find a human with hidden talents for his vessel? Anyone? Nope, didn't think so, let's see what trouble they can get each other into. *evil grin*


	4. Do You Feel Like We Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar shows Nigel a few neat tricks so Nigel shows a few of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know, Nigel doesn't find the chapter title funny. He'll get over it.

Balthazar glanced around the living room. There was very little in the way of decoration and he liked that this human hadn’t cluttered his living space like so many of them seemed to. His eyes fell across the piano and he found himself walking over to it. He ran his fingers lightly across the black lacquered fall board as he sat on the bench. He noted that the piano appeared to be well cared for, although the bench and keys showed the wear of frequent use. He pressed a single key and paused slightly before pressing the next. Nigel watched silently as Balthazar stopped partway along and stood. He reached a slender finger out and ran it along one of the strings lightly. He pressed the key over again and continued along the line. Twice more he stopped and stroked one of the strings. When he finished he ran his finger down the perfectly tuned keys. Nigel was impressed; he found tuning the piano to be a chore normally. He almost asked if Balthazar would be available on weekends after he went back to heaven. He stayed quiet; he had sensed that the angel had been a little unsettled when he talked to him. He wasn’t sure if there was a kind of etiquette that was expected when you rented yourself out to an angel or if it was just awkward knowing someone was looking over your shoulder. He knew it would drive him a little crazy to have a running commentary on what he was doing if their roles were reversed. So he remained still and quiet, watching every action with interest. Balthazar had picked up the sheet music that Nigel had been working on, studying the musician’s notes for a moment before he placed the page back on the stand. After only a slight pause his fingers moved across the keys, expertly drawing out the opening to Nigel’s new song. Instead of stopping when he reached the end of the written music he played out part of the humming he had heard from Nigel that night. Nigel couldn’t help himself. _“It just doesn’t quite work does it? I can’t seem to keep that same flow…”_ Balthazar didn’t respond at first and Nigel mentally kicked himself. He was relieved when the angel replied, _“I’m sure you can come up with something soon, don’t focus on it so hard.”_ _“So, out of curiosity, do you know how to play because you learned or was that a magic trick?”_ Balthazar tipped his head a little, considering his answer. _“Angels don’t use magic, our abilities come from a core part of ourselves we call grace. Human’s use magic.”_ He had said the last part in more of a sneering drawl than he had meant, so he was surprised that Nigel responded as though he hadn’t heard. _“So your grace let you play the piano? What else can you do with it? No wait, sorry, I said I’d be quiet.”_ Balthazar could sense Nigel trying to hold up his hands in appeasement, even though he didn’t currently have hands. The fact that he tried at all made the angel smile to himself. He looked around the corner of the room; he spotted the red guitar in its stand from Nigel’s dream. He stood and lifted it up, sliding his arm through the strap. As his fingers lightly ran down the strings tuning the guitar, Nigel spoke up. _“Sorry Wings, my amp is busted. Haven’t gotten a new one yet…shit!”_ Balthazar actually laughed aloud at Nigel’s surprised squawk. His fingers were playing a complex pattern he had pulled from the human’s memory and his grace was acting as a fully functional amplifier. The music faded as he unslung the guitar and placed it back in its stand.

He could feel Nigel’s soul rippling in surprised mirth, it felt familiar, like feeling Gabriel’s laugh when he pulled off a prank on Michael. Suddenly the loss of his brothers and his home, hit him. His essence vibrated with homesickness, making the hair on the vessel’s arms and neck stand on end. He took a deep steadying breath instinctively, pulling air he didn’t need into lungs that weren’t his. Nigel’s soul had quieted and was back to its resting state. If he had noticed Balthazar’s reaction he was remaining tactfully quiet about it. Balthazar brought his focus back to what he needed to do.  He needed to place a ward on his vessel so that other angels couldn’t find him.  Then he could come up with a plan for what to do next.  He started moving through Nigel’s house, feigning mild curiosity as he went along. While he walked he directed his grace to begin etching enochian wards into the ribs. He stopped now and then and looked more closely at certain items as though interested. It let him focus more carefully when he needed to make some of the more complicated patterns.  He was relieved that Nigel was remaining quiet.  He had wandered into Nigel’s bedroom as he finished the last of the wards.  He decided to examine the room lest Nigel get suspicious. He glanced briefly at the bed before moving to open the closet at the end of the room.  He was mildly surprised to find it fairly empty.  There were a few dress shirts and a dusty suit on one end, the other had a few jackets.  His shoes were mainly boots in different styles with a single fairly neglected pair of sneakers shoved in the back.  Balthazar arched an eyebrow as he closed the closet doors.  He sent a questioning ripple through the part of him that held Nigel.  He hadn’t expected a response; it was just an automatic reaction to the closeness of the other’s soul. _“Heh, yeah, uh, not much of a fancy clothes man. I mostly stick to the t-shirts and jeans in the dresser there.”_ Balthazar felt Nigel’s soul attempt to point to the dresser beside him. Although he kept it hidden Balthazar was startled. Had Nigel felt and understood his question or was his comment just a coincidence? He nodded his understanding before he turned to leave the room. He was at a loss now. Normally he would have had a mission to complete, orders to follow. Just because he could make his own decisions now didn’t mean he really knew how to. He suddenly felt cast adrift, what did a warrior angel do with himself alone on Earth? Were his brothers alright, or had more of them been killed since he left? Was Cas holding on or was he being overrun by Raphael? His fear and doubt were building painfully, and there were no fellow angels to turn to. No one was there to reassure or advise him. His hand raked through his hair as he cast around the room for any hint what to do.  “How do I do this, how in Heaven did **Cas** do it?” he thought desperately. He tried to make a show of calmly leaving the room and going down the stairs back to the living room. As soon as he walked into the room with no plan forthcoming his panic spiked and his essence reached instinctively for the soul traveling within it. Before he could stop himself he sent an agitated pattern spiking around the soul. He knew he should have been surprised that Nigel had read his distress. That he had once again demonstrated ability beyond what humans normally had. All he could do was cling to Nigel’s words. _“Woah! Hey man, deep breath alright? C’mon Wings, slow down. How can I help?”_ Balthazar had been trying to breathe steadily when Nigel’s last words sunk in. He blinked, startled into stillness before he barked out laughter. Had the man really just offered to help an angel? A disembodied soul thought it could help him. It was at once comical and reassuring. He hated the reassuring part but he kept that to himself. Balthazar’s eyes squeezed shut as he let his laughter defuse some of his panic. When Nigel spoke again there was a hint of laughter in his voice, an automatic response to the angel’s laugh. _“I don’t know what I said, but this is good, laughing is good.”_ Balthazar felt Nigel moving against him; it was like a hand resting on his shoulder. He wanted to be irritated at the man for being able to read his essence like that. Or to be aggravated at him for assuming a human could offer anything to a celestial being. He couldn’t really seem to muster it though, instead he sighed and moved a little more of himself to cradle the fragile soul he held.

He debated letting Nigel in on what was happening for a fraction of a second, telling him the truth about all of it. Deciding against it, he chose to cover his actions, remaining secluded in his lie. _“I think you misunderstood what was happening. I was simply letting my superior know I had successfully made contact with you.” “So that was you, phoning home?”_ Nigel sounded like he wanted to believe it but didn’t quite. Balthazar told himself he was imagining the suspicion in Nigel’s voice. _“It takes a lot of focus to do, I didn’t think you would be aware it was happening, I hadn’t meant to distress you.”_   Balthazar felt if there were any justice in the world Nigel would let the topic drop. _“So is that who Cas is, your boss?”_ He was being punished for leaving heaven; nothing else explained getting this vessel. _“Yes he leads my garrison. I’m impressed you could hear me.”_ He wasn’t impressed he was mortified. _“I didn’t really hear anything other than that name, but I thought I was feeling… something dark?”_ He trailed off uncertainly and Balthazar nearly breathed a sigh of relief. _“Sorry man, I guess I shouldn’t have interrupted like that.”_ _“No, it was a kind gesture.”_ He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t let the man feel bad about it. Not when he had helped pull him out of whatever that dark spiral had been. He wasn’t about to confess though, he didn’t want to try and find another vessel, especially now that he wouldn’t be able to explain what he had done or why. It was too late to go back, he had to deal with his actions now like it or not. That still left him in the quandary of not knowing what to do with himself. Unless of course he wanted to actually try to help inspire the musician as he had promised. He felt like attempting to do human things was likely to be boring and useless at best; but with no other clear road in front of him he saw no other choice. He realized he was slouching a little, shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes at himself, pulling himself up straighter.

 _“So, I assume you feel fairly comfortable with all of this at this point. What would you do if it was your first real outing as a human and anything was possible?”_ Balthazar felt Nigel swirl and ripple in laughter at the same time as he heard him. He was finding the sensation more and more appealing. _“Well that’s a bloody big question, I feel like I could solve world hunger first.”_ Nigel slowly eased off his laugh and really thought about it, he felt like big grand activities were the wrong choice for a first outing. Although, if an angel just suggested doing anything at all it seemed like a waste not to take him up on it. _“Actually how about trying gelato in Italy, I was going to suggest Ice cream here but if we… What the hell! Sorry, but what?”_ Balthazar was too pleased about startling Nigel to do more than ruffle his feathers at the blasphemy. He could feel the soul struggling to grasp what had just happened. His words had barely been uttered when Balthazar had decided it wasn’t a bad idea and flew them to Italy. They were on the edge of a public square, near a small gelato shop. He looked around at the people filling the common space with only mild curiosity, before looking at the shop. _“You said you thought this was a good start.” “Wings, did you just fly us to Italy!? Wait, why does this look familiar?”_ His shock was fading as he struggled to remember the little square. Balthazar showed Nigel his own memory of the place, as if he was watching a movie. _“Oh man that tour was, what, 30 years ago? I forgot all about this, the band I was opening for and I decided since it was our first time in Italy we should try and tour around and got lost. We wound up here and had gelato while we waited for their manager to come find us, man he had been pissed.”_ Nigel explained what they were viewing, laughing at the memory, particularly at the rather distressed looking drummer on the phone. _“Oh let me tell you Wings, never let your own dad be your manager, too much hassle.” “Hmm, I think you could say I do have some experience with that.” “I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way. Huh.”_ He pushed a little against Balthazar’s essence. _“I hate to bring this up but we don’t have the right money with us.”_ Balthazar pulled the wallet out of his back pocket and held it between his hands for a moment; a soft light glowed out briefly. When it faded he opened it up to reveal bills that had all been transformed from dollars into euros. He felt Nigel’s impressed whistle and he preened a little at the praise. _“So, what flavor do I pick?” “Well, I’m a chocolate guy myself but I think you should get two. Pick a chocolate or vanilla for something basic and then one that just seems appealing to you and see what you like, yeah?”_ Balthazar sat a few minutes later with a dish of Chocolate and Pomegranate. Although he was looking out of Nigel’s eyes and tasting with his mouth, his own essence was interlaced with the body’s cells. So when he looked and tasted it came to him through the complex senses of an angel. He couldn’t taste the whole of the food at once like a human did, he tasted the individual molecules, and he saw the individual ice crystals. When he displayed almost no reaction to the food he had felt Nigel’s confusion. He wanted to explain the problem but found he lacked the right words. _“How do you feel about seeing things a bit like I do? I can’t let you feel everything it would be, dangerous. But I can give you a glimpse.”_ He expected Nigel to turn him down so he smiled at the enthusiastic response he got instead. _“Okay try to keep yourself very still for me, it might be uncomfortable so I won’t hold it long.”_ He waited until he felt that Nigel had stilled himself into a quiet pool. Balthazar carefully reached tiny particles of himself into the elements of Nigel’s soul. He gave him access to the tiniest fraction of his vision and taste only, afraid that adding any of his numerous other senses would overwhelm and dissipate the soul. Once he felt in sync with Nigel he looked down at the frozen treat, then he took a small bite, letting it rest in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it. As soon as he swallowed he gently pulled himself back, one particle at a time, until they were separated again. He sensed no motion from Nigel at all, and he had just started to worry that he had overloaded the man when he heard and felt a sad ripple from him. _“Oh Wings, I mean in a way that was really amazing. I don’t even honestly know what all just happened, but, but isn’t it hard to get a sense of how human’s live if you don’t **have** our senses? That was like a science experiment, for us it’s, well, not that.”_ Nigel felt hesitant; he didn’t know if he was somehow insulting the angel but couldn’t line up what had just happened to what he thought of as seeing or tasting. _“Well normally we don’t even have a physical form in the way you would think of one. And in the physical form we can take, we are the massive potential of our power compressed in a form that would be gigantic to you, but it is so compacted that it proves fatal to humans. In fact, that was why I had to come to you in a dream.”_ He thought about what Nigel had said about human senses; and the tickle of a thought built into a full idea while he was explaining. _“Actually, you make a fair point, and I might have access to something that could solve the problem of having an angelic filter to your senses.”_ He didn’t wait for Nigel to respond, he just flew them from the shop to one of the artifact caches he had made.

He had retrieved a necklace from the deep crevasse he had used to hide a few small trinkets and flown them back to the table in the blink of an eye. He felt Nigel ripple in startled aggravation at the sensation of angelic travel. He held the necklace up for Nigel to see and slid it around his neck, tucking the pendent into his shirt. _“Man **warn** a guy before you do that would you? I feel like I’m seasick, although I guess I don’t have to worry about actually heaving.” _ Balthazar tried to send a wave of apology to the flustered man but he let a little laughter in too. _“So what is that thing?” “It has the power to change my angelic senses, it doesn’t affect my grace at all but it makes me more locked into the cells of your body. The way your body takes in input is now what I pick up. Although I can still feel a hint of my senses working; things look, smell, taste, sound the same to me as they should to you.” “Isn’t that really strange for you, it must feel like you’re being smothered or something.”_ Balthazar considered that, it was already fascinating to him to see and smell the shop through Nigel’s body. It felt very limiting in a way; and that was a little uncomfortable, but he was fascinated at the pleasure he was feeling from taking in things as a cohesive whole. Instead of answering he lifted a spoonful of the chocolate gelato to his lips and took a small bite. He made an embarrassingly human noise of pleasure as the cold dessert slid along his tongue, covering it in the silky taste of chocolate. He swallowed the first bite and tried the pomegranate, grunting in surprise at the bright tang of the fruit, a polar opposite to the first flavor. _“I see why you picked this to try, it’s excellent.”_ He found the ridiculous grin he was wearing embarrassing but he was too caught up in the moment to give it a second thought. This was the first moment of calm happiness he had had since he left heaven and he glowed internally from it. The part of him that held Nigel wrapped the soul in a warm gentle pressure and the soul curled around in response. Nigel watched quietly while Balthazar finished eating, thinking about all the other things he enjoyed that would be unique to the angel. When Balthazar finished he rose to leave, wandering slowly through the square to the spot they first appeared in. He took in as much as he could with his new human attuned senses, marveling at the simultaneous simplicity and richness of it. He warned Nigel before flying them both back to Nigel’s house. Nigel drawled casually, _“Sooo, if you thought that was good, I think I have a few other things we can have you try out.”_ Balthazar could hear the sly tone and the fearless warrior in him was rising to the challenge before it was even given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy to see some views on this! I hope everyone is enjoying, feel free to leave comments they make my day and if you have questions I promise to answer them!

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this to the two authors that have helped get me to start writing after a long absence. Smaychel and TheFierceBeast. Note however that I am so rusty they can't be blamed if you don't care for it. That's all on me.


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